Dear (2022)

🍁 Thirteen : Compassionate

COMPASSIONATE

The doorbell rang repeatedly, jolting Genevieve from a deep sleep. 

With her eyes half-open and her hair tousled, she glanced at her phone to see it was 8:30 a.m. 

Her alarm was blaring, so she quickly silenced it and rose from her bed, hastily pulling her hair into a ponytail.

As the doorbell chimed once more, she made her way downstairs.

Opening the door, she found Alex standing before her. His smile faltered slightly when he noticed her still clad in her pajamas and robe. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I must have disturbed your sleep."

"No, it's alright. My alarm just went off," she reassured him.

"Oh," he nodded. "Um, my mum asked me to give you this. It's a raspberry cheesecake she baked this morning," he handed her a box of cake.

A wide smile spread across her face as she graciously accepted it. "Wow, thank you."

"It's no problem," he replied, returning her smile.

"You and your family are so kind to me. Thank you again, Alex," she expressed her gratitude sincerely.

Alex's gaze lingered on her for a moment, and as their eyes met, he spoke up.

"Enjoy your breakfast then," he said, his smile remaining on his lips.

She nodded in acknowledgment.

"Well, I should probably get going. I need to see my daughter off to school," he explained, appearing a bit rushed.

"No worries, thanks for stopping by," she replied.

"You're welcome. Bye," he waved awkwardly as he stepped away from the porch.

"Bye," she called after him, watching him disappear from sight before closing the door and placing the box of cake in the kitchen.

Genevieve stretched her muscles until another knock sounded at the door.

With a sigh, she opened it, only to find no one in sight. Puzzled, she stepped onto the porch, scanning the area.

Just as she turned to go back inside, Samuel appeared beside her, causing her to startle.

His forehead creased with desperation.

"What are you doing on my porch?" Genevieve asked, eyeing him cautiously.

Samuel exhaled heavily. "I need your help."

Genevieve looked at him incredulously. The fact that she could interact with spirits one by one, and now they were seeking her help, was beyond belief.

"Why do you need my help?" she asked, intrigued.

"The first time you were here, I sensed something about you," he explained. Genevieve furrowed her brow, growing more curious. "You have a gift. That's why I need your help."

"No," she shook her head. "I'm just... unwell," she admitted, feeling an odd sense of honesty with him. "I don't think I can help. I'm sorry, really, I can't," she said, attempting to distance herself from him. But his next words stopped her in her tracks.

"I miss my children and my wife," Samuel said, his voice filled with desperation. "I just want to talk to them."

Genevieve cast him a worried glance. She was staunchly opposed to the idea. 

She didn't want anyone to discover her ability to see spirits, fearing they might take advantage of her. 

However, the spirits seemed aware of her gift.

"Please, just once, and then I'll never bother you again," he pleaded.

"I-" Genevieve began, her gaze fixed on him, but she shook her head. "I really can't, Sam. I'm truly sorry."

Samuel was taken aback when she addressed him by name. Mancy must have told her about him.

"I'm sorry," Genevieve repeated, before retreating back inside, leaving him alone on the porch.

She wanted to help him, but for the sake of her own well-being, she knew she couldn't.

Unbeknownst to Genevieve, Mancy watched from the living room window, observing Genevieve as she spoke seemingly to no one on the porch. 

As Genevieve conversed with an invisible presence, Mancy's heart quickened with concern.

"Oh, Evie," Mancy muttered to herself, her hand pressed against her chest. She couldn't shake off the worry that Genevieve might be losing her mind.

End of chapter Thirteen.